


Technoblade never dies.

by valerian_valentine



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Death, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Hearing Voices, Homelessness, Murder, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valerian_valentine/pseuds/valerian_valentine
Summary: A look into how Technoblade first met Mr Philza Minecraft and how they became friends.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	1. The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Gore, blood, violence, voices  
> keep in mind this is my first time writing mcyt type shit

Having your entire personality, your entire life, be based on violence and pain.. It wasn’t fun. You speak of the horrors you’ve seen, the crimes you’ve committed, the atrocities you’ve forced others to witness and all you get are cheers and chants for more. Every time someone praises you for what you’ve done, they stick with you constantly, hiding where no one can see them. You shout and cry but the voices only cheer for more, more drama, more blood.. You tell them about the blood god and they chant for it, praise for it but they don’t realize that the blood god isn’t you.

‘Technoblade never dies’ was a phrase he was starting to hate, a phrase he began slowly flinching at, imaginary bugs crawling across his limbs like he was a sweet treat left unattended whenever it was shouted from the rooftops, shouted repeatedly in his head, over and over until it was all he was. The undying blood god..

But what was wrong with death? As Techno stood over the corpses of his friends, he pondered who was the winner here. The man who finally felt the release of death, or the man who would have to continue living with the blood of friends on his hands. It was hard to tell but the voices encouraged him, praised him for a good job, told him to find the nearest animal and kill that too but he was tired, his arms shaking and legs weak. It was a tough fight and he was looking forward to the deep slumber that came with it. 

He gathered up his friends' items, taking the valuable things and leaving the rest before he started making his way back to his house, mud squishing under his hooves. That would be a bitch to clean later but who cares? Not like he had someone who cared about him being dirty. No one cared. No one cared anymore, at least. His friends would have cared but their flesh was still stuck under his nails and their screams still rang through his head, the voices mocking them. His friends would have cleaned him off, offered him food… Why did he do that? Why did he kill them?

He looked down at his hands, watching the blood flake off, the liquid sticky now. His friend's blood.. His friends… He didn’t need them anyway. Technoblade was a solo guy, a one man army, a uh… A single warrior or something. He didn’t need ‘friends’. He didn’t need fucking handicaps, he was perfectly capable of getting by by himself, he didn’t need anyone. Friends were just dumb hindrances, useless beings that only existed to make people feel better about themselves. He didn’t need them, he had the voices to make him feel better. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly coming back to reality, the drone of rain beating down around him calming down the voices for now. How long had he been standing there? He looked down at the blood on his hands. It was dried and flakey at some parts, soaking wet in others from the rain. He stuck his hands out and started scrubbing them in the downpour, taking a deep breath before he started walking again, unbothered by his now soaked clothes. When he got home, he’d have to make sure his jars were placed properly out in the rain so he could have some water for the week and then he’d have to clean his clothes down by the river then make sure his house was still waterproof and then he should probably try to get some rest, his friends put up quite a fight. In the morning, when he was cleaner looking, he could go sell the shit he stole off of them and hopefully get enough food for a good while and a weapon but he’d settle on just some food. They didn’t have a lot on them and none of it seemed worth that much so it’d be best not to get his hopes up too high.

His jars clinked together as he set them out in the rain, the sound pleasing to him. The sky was pretty grey, promising plenty of fresh water for the week and he hoped it would be enough for his tiny garden. Well, it wasn’t  _ his _ garden, per say, but it was definitely a garden that he found and frequented so that must make it his. Finders keepers and all that. Once he got his jars cleaned out and situated properly, he got off his dirty, bloody clothes and took them down to the river which was only a few feet away. Fish lazily swam away when he got close and one of the voices piped up, giving him vague images of the fish dying from his dirty laundry while another voice insisted on killing one of the innocent creatures. He ignored them both, dunking his shirt into the river. This was his killing shirt, reserved for dirty work. Killing, murdering, playing in the mud, etc so he didn’t really care that much about it getting clean but he would prefer it to not grow mold or have a bunch of blood on it. Stains were fine but just having a bunch of blood sitting there was unsanitary and he drew the line at unnecessary dirtiness. Mud covered hooves and stains couldn’t be helped but he could wash off blood.

He scrubbed the fabric, washing blood and dirt bleed into the water, contaminating it, the liquids flowing downstream till it was all just water again. Everything always went back to being water in the end… He shook his head and set his shirt in his laundry crate, grabbing his pants next. He had taken the valuables out and stashed them away in his house earlier but he went through the pockets one more time just in case, searching for anything of use. Nothing other than pine needles that burrowed their way into his pockets somehow. He didn’t really mind, they made him smell better. He dipped them into the water, rain beating down on his back as he watched variously colored fluids bleed into the river and eventually disappear. He hasn’t washed these in a while and he kinda regretted it but whatever, the cloth was fine and that’s all that mattered. As long as it was still wearable, it would be okay. He would be okay. Everything would be okay.

Before he knew it, he was done and clean, sitting in his house as he waited for his body to dry. He had his knees pressed up against his chest, entire body curled up tight so he could preserve what little heat he had. His wet clothes were sitting in the corner, each piece of cloth spread out so it could dry faster and he silently wished for the storm to let up a bit soon so he could find a dry rock to beat his clothes on, to speed up the dryer process a bit but the rain was good. It would bring good things, he was sure of it, even if he hated being cold and wet.

He jumped a bit, heart racing in his chest as he heard the squish and squealch of someone walking in the mud. Did he get caught? Was he on private land? Was he about to get arrested? Fuck, he couldn’t get arrested! He was just a kid, he didn’t know what prison was like! He snorted, collecting himself before poking his head out of his makeshift house, the cardboard roof shifting unsteadily when a gust of wind went by. He glared at whoever was standing in front of his house, trying to seem tough.

“Oh!” The person said with surprise, crouching down to see him properly, their big coat touching the mud and getting dirty. “Sorry mate, didn’t know there was someone in there. This your house?”

He nodded, snorting again to seem intimidating. This guy was big and tall but he could take him no problem. “Whaddya want?” He grumbled, trying to hide his shivering while the voices hissed and whimpered, telling him to bite this stranger to show him who's boss.

“Well, it’s mighty cold out here. You got a good blanket in there? Don’t wanna have the police coming over to haul you away.” The man said, a sleepy smile on his face. He looked old. And ugly.

“None ya bibness!” He told off the stranger, lifting up his top lip to show off his bloodstained teeth. That usually got rich looking guys to back off.

“That’s fair, that’s fair… Tell you what, mate. I need a strong guy like you to clean up my house a bit, think you can do it? I’ll give you a free trial of sorts. You come over, clean up a bit and I’ll see if you’ll be able to handle doing that everyday. If I like your work, I’ll even give you a room along with pay. Sounds good?” The man held his hand out for a handshake, his hands calloused but warm looking… He looked easy to run away from too.

“How I know you’re not gonna rip me off?” He demanded, eyeing his hand warily. He might not be the smartest academically but he knew when something sounded too good to be true. This guy must be a weirdo or something but a room inside did sound nice.. Plus, he needed to move soon before someone ended up following him here.

“Good point. Here,” The stranger ruffled through his pockets for a while before pulling out a dagger. It was beautiful, diamond and clearly enchanted. It would last him centuries. “Collateral.” He handed the blade over, handle towards Techno so he wouldn’t risk cutting himself.

“Cartilage.” He corrected, taking the knife. “Deal, old man. What happens if you don’t like my cleaning abilities?”

The stranger chuckled at the nickname, shaking his head. “My name is Philza, and I’m not even that old! Now, if I don’t like how you clean, I’ll let you stay over during the storm and find some other use for ya during that time but if the storm lightens up, I’ll send you back here.”

Techno nodded slowly, looking down at the blade, thumbing the enchantments carved into the handle. Men.. Mending.. F.. Fi.. Whatever, the enchantments didn’t matter. He’d figure it out eventually. The blade glowed and practically vibrated with power, making a silent promise to battle for him until the very end, never betraying his side… Well, cleaning wasn’t so bad if he got this out of it. “Mkay Philza. My name's Technoblade, I won’t rip you off.”

  
  


Physical labor was one of the things Technoblade was good at. It satisfied the voices the same way killing did. Killing was a bit like cleaning. Erasing something that would just come back in a few weeks… A necessary evil, he supposed. But cleaning Mr Philza’s house was shockingly easy. It wasn’t that dirty at all, most of the filth just being around the back doors and the bathrooms. He didn’t really know why Mr Philza couldn’t do it himself, he seemed perfectly capable. He set a clean mug aside, ear twitching when the kettle started whistling. Here we go.

Techno picked up the art of tea a while ago, learning from the various free exhibits at the museums and some friendly merchants offering him free samples of their new shitty hot leaf water. He hopped off his stool and picked the hot kettle off the stove, quickly turning it off to save power. He poured the scalding hot water into one of Mr Philza’s nice looking teapots, letting the water run over the sides, washing the pot before he dumped the water into the sink and refilled the teapot with the last of the hot water, finally adding his tea in. This wasn’t really the proper way but he figured Mr Philza wouldn’t notice based on his shitty brand tea that came in waxy tea bags. He set the teapot aside, putting the kettle back on the stove before he got back to washing dishes, almost tripping on his pants again.

He huffed, hiking them up again. Mr Philza had given him some clean clothes to wear while his dried in the bathroom and they were barely even close to his size but that was better than going around with his fuzzy breeches exposed. He took a breath before going back to the dishes, trusting the voices to tell him when the tea was done. He trusted this Philza guy now so he was going to do whatever he had to do to secure his spot in the guest room. He saw it and he needed it. The bed was big and the sheets were soft and best of all, the whole room was  _ warm _ . The house was much warmer than it was outside, only a few chilly spots around but he didn’t mind. Being kinda warm and dry was better than being wet and cold.

He paused when he heard footsteps descending the stairs, scrubbing the dishes harder and hoped Philza was in a good mood. He didn’t sound upset, not yet anyway. It was hard to tell with new people.

“Ooohh, good job, mate!” Philza praised, swiping a finger across the counter in a faux search of dust. “Whatcha making?” He asked, going to open the teapot.

“No touch!” Techno corrected, karate chopping Philza’s wrist before he could open the teapot. “Leave ‘lone!” He told him, glaring up at the tall man from his perch on his step stool.

“Alright, alright.” Philza held his hands up, a confused smile on his face. “But what is it? You better not be brewing potions in my teapots, Techno, those are very valuable to me.”

“Tea.” He told him, grabbing a mug. The tea should be done about now.

“Tea? Never heard of a tea you weren’t allowed to check on.” Philza mused, watching him with interest.

Techno rolled his eyes, hopping off his stool and sniffed the spout. Hmm… It would need a touch of sugar but Philza could figure that out by himself. He poured the tea into the mug, swirling it around before dumping the liquid into the sink.

“Aye!” Philza squawked in distress. “Techno, you can’t just waste a perfectly good cup of tea like that!”

“Know what I’m doin’.” He insisted, pouring another cup before handing the mug over to Philza. “Ish good. Did best I could with ingredients.” He told him, crossing his arms. That room was his for sure.

Philza frowned at him, taking the mug in his hand. “We’ll work on your grammar and manners soon.” He mumbled before sipping the tea and Techno watched smugly as his eyes brightened. “Holy moley Techno! That’s some good tea! What’d you use? I’ve never had anything like this before!”

Techno shrugged, holding up the tea boxes he found. “These.” He handed Phiza the differently colored boxes. He couldn’t really read what was one them but he knew what they were based on the pictures and smell.

“Huh. Never thought of that. Good job, mate! I’d say that room is yours already! Now, I say we get your stuff in the morning, the rain is really coming down and I’d hate for either of us to get a cold.” Philza sipped his tea, humming into the steam.

“No. I get stuff, be back before tomorrow.” Techno promised, drying his hands off with the dish rag before he started making his way to the back door, hooves clicking on the wood.

“Wha- Techno! I can’t just let a kid like you go around wandering into the night!” Philza followed, setting his cup of tea on the table. “It’s dangerous out there!”

“Have blade, be fine.” He reassured his new boss, opening the door. “Be back before tomorrow.” He reassured him again before closing the door behind him and taking off into the night. He didn’t know why Philza was so worried, he had a blade with him and he would have his things. No big deal.

He stuffed his fancy clothes into his sack, wedging them between his jars so nothing would break when he went back. He scanned his old home, looking for anything valuable he would take with him. He had his clothes, jewelry, money, food… Everything seemed good. He turned around and started heading back, rain beating down on his head, limiting his vision but that was fine. He was safe her-

_ Raarrrgggahhh….. _

What the ever loving fuck was that.

Techno barely had enough time to turn around before something ran right into him, jaws snapping at his flesh. He yelped in surprise but his instincts didn’t fail him, his blade finding the monster's ribcage and sinking in and within seconds, fire spread from the wound and covered the monster's body but that only knocked it back a little bit, the flames singing Technos short fur.

He dropped his things, bringing up his fists to face off the monster, snorting at it as it burned but the flames died down quickly, it’s wet flesh providing nothing to ignite. Its familiar looking face lunged again, snapping and groaning for food. He dodged it and stabbed it in the back of the neck, watching it’s body crumble easily.

It was wearing his friend's clothes.

He picked up his things, deciding not to search the body for valuables. He knew he already had everything it had. He started making his way back, upset he got Mr Philza’s clothes dirty but he should understand. He looked like he knew what zombies were like. His hooves dug into the mud, squishing and smooshing as he walked, fighting against the urge to just lay down and nap. He was going to sleep in a real bed tonight no matter what, no matter who he had to kill, he was getting in that fucking bed.

His head snapped up when he heard wings beating, hand tightening around his new blade as something lowered itself down. “Back off!” He shouted, defensive.

“Techno!”

“Philza?” He frowned, eyes following the figure till it landed roughly in front of him, mud flying up.

“Oh thank the lords!” Philza shouted with relief, hugging him before he could protest. “You shouldn’t be out in a storm like this! I was worried a charged creeper was going to get you!” He babbled, giant, stiff wings covering them and sheltering them from the rain.

“Dunno what that is.” He told him, focused on the wings. They looked like a bugs but.. Bigger and tougher. How’d he get those?

“Jesus mate, let's get you back inside..” Philza trailed off, probably noticing the corpse behind him.

“No worry. I killed.” He stepped back, showing Philza the dirty knife as proof he killed his old friend twice. “No injuries, easy fight. Technoblade never dies.” He told him, the voices cheering in his head, shouting for blood.

Philza gave him a look he could recognize before he patted his shoulder, standing up straight. “Let's get you inside, Techno.” He murmured. He stood up straight and spread his wings, leaning down to pick him up but right over his shoulder, Techno saw a small figure racing towards them.

“PHILZA!” He shouted, dunking under his arms and running towards the figure. Another zombie, one of his ex friends. They were the toughest of the group and he was  _ not _ going to let some mediocre fighter bite his only chance out of homelessness.

“Techno, leave it!” Philza shouted but it was drowned out by the voices, screaming at him to defend Philza, to defend and secure his place by Philzas side, demanding blood and violence, demanding justice and sacrifice.

He tackled the zombie, it’s rotting flesh molding and wrinkling easily under his touch but he didn’t care, focused solely on making the creature bleed and die once more. They fell to the ground with a disgusting squelch, his knees trapped the monsters bottom half while it desperately tried to bite his shoulder. He reached up and dug his knife between it’s hip bones before gutting it, knife going from one hip bone to the other, it's flesh cutting smoothly. The voices screamed and cheered as he pulled away and caught sight of his work, cold blood seeping into his new pants, staining the white fabric red. He brought up his hoof and smashed his friends skull before it could sit up, the sound of it’s nose and teeth breaking tickling his brain pleasingly before he lodged the blade between its ribs, twisting the blade around so blood pathetically squirted out, soaking the ground, feeding the earth.

_ Blood for the blood _ _god._

He stomped on its face again, aiming for it’s jaw joint this time and couldn’t fight off a smile when he heard it disconnect, the pop replaying over and over in his head as the voices raved, praising him heavily before slowly dying down and he finally realized what he had done. He wasn’t guilty.. Well, he was a bit guilty, feeling bad for ruining Philza’s nice clothes but he did it to protect Philza so it evened out in the end. He shakily got up, wet clothes clinging to his body as exhaustion seeped its way into his bones, the rain beating down on him like small rocks.

“See?” He held up the blade, looking into Philza’s unreadable eyes. “Technoblade never dies.”


	2. The Middle.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno meets a child.

Technoblade stared at the.... _Thing_ in front of him. It was small and skinny, it’s brown hair matted to it’s pale skull. It looked ugly. And gross. Smelled like shit too.

“Techno, this is Wilbur.” Philza spoke softly, a kind look on his face, the same kind look he gave people when he was helping them or talking to scared animals. “Wilbur is going to be staying with us for a while. He’s my son now and I hope you’ll treat him with respect.”

The child quaked in front of him, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes, it’s pupils mere dots. It looked much too small and young to fight, it looked human too. This must be the first time it’s seen something like him, based on it’s terrified expression.

“He’s filthy.” Was all he said, glaring down at the child. It must have been a foot or so shorter than he was and a hundred pounds lighter, no wonder Phil took pity on it. It looked like it wouldn’t survive a single winter by itself. He looked up at Phil to tell him to reconsider this adoption choice but was stopped by his stern, slightly begging look. Well. Seems the child is non negotiable. “I’ll run a bath..” He grumbled, defeated by one look. He turned his back on them, making his way to the kitchen to start boiling water. Their water heater worked just fine but it wouldn’t get past slightly hotter than lukewarm and that kid needed boiling hot just to get the top level of grime out.

He wasn’t excited about this, he was far from excited. Another kid in the house was not something he ever wanted and the kid looked fucking weird. It would be basically useless. Probably couldn’t even cook a proper meal, he had no idea why Philza wanted a useless lump around.

He snorted, shaking his head to rid his thoughts. Philza loved differently. He didn’t love based on usefulness, he loved based on person. He didn’t understand it but it was something he just had to get used to. Besides, having another human around might be fun! He could learn more about human things, hopefully learn how to socialize properly. He was great at business transactions. Everything else? He fucking sucked. He couldn’t even greet the neighbors without having an anxiety attack but he’s never had to be good at interacting or getting along, he did just fine with physical labor and violence. Who needed a good social life when you could fight? 

He shook his head again. Philza wanted him to get better at being nice so he’ll do it. No more complaining, be grateful you even have the opportunity to learn how to interact with people, how to be proper.

He waited in front of the stove until his pot was boiling, bubbles splashing and bursting at the top before he grabbed the handles and started carrying the pot to the bathtub. He didn’t need a lot of boiling water, just enough to get the rest of the water hot. He plugged the drain and started filling it up, listening in on Phil’s and the child's conversation. 

“-and this will be your room! You get to decide what and who gets to be in here but please refrain from locking the door.” Philza told the child, probably showing it one of the guest rooms based on his footsteps. It was the small room but it was the prettiest, a window looking out on the garden/farm and had a nice skylight. Techno was going to miss going in there during rainstorms.

“Can I lock it at night..? I don’t want the pig to get me…” The child's voice was quiet but Techno could hear it just fine, his ears twitching and moving to listen in.

“Oh, Technoblade is a friend! He’d never hurt you. Like I said, he’s our friend. He makes food and cleans the house and tends to our garden as long as we give him a home and food to eat.” Philza explained but there was… Sympathy in his voice. “But you may lock your door tonight if that’ll make you feel better.”

What the fuck.

Techno gripped the pot tightly, the metal container burning his calloused hands. He was huffing now, snorting and snuffing, trying to relax himself as he watched the tub fill up. Philza was his friend, he wouldn’t let this kid insult him like this for long. He would never. 

“Why’s he look like that?” The child asked, sitting on the creaky bed, unaware Techno could hear his every movement. Rage boiled inside of him, popping and splashing around in his chest. 

“Well, why do you look the way you do now?” Philza asked nicely. “He was born that way, the same way you’re born the way you are now. He might look scary but he’s very… Well, I won’t lie to you, Wilbur. He’s rude and mean a lot of the time, sarcastic too, but he protects us. He loves us in his own way. We might hug each other and give kisses or talk about how we feel while Techno shows his love by protecting us, making sure we have a roof over our head and sharing things with us. It’ll take a while to get used to but I promise, Techno is a big sweetie when you get to understand him.” Philza reassured the child.

Techno snorted, tossing herbs and oils into the bath. Philza was fucking delusional as always. He stuck his hand in the water, mixing the hot and warm all together before getting up, drying his hand off with a towel. The water was a bit too cold for his tastes so it’ll be perfect for the child. Humans had sensitive skin, no proper fur to protect them.

He left the bathroom and headed upstairs, making sure his hooves clicked on every step so the two wouldn’t get startled when he showed up. He passed his room, the linen closet, the second weapons closet and finally showed up at ‘Wilburs’ new room, standing in front of the doorway, not entering. Philza was crouched in front of the child while the child sat on the bed, looking terrified when it saw him.

“Baths ready.” He grunted, taking note of the pungent smell radiating off of both of them. Humans were disgusting.

“Oh great! Thanks mate! Wilbur, is it okay if Techno helps you with your hair?” Philza asked, leaning in. “He’s _much_ better at hair than I am.” He whispered to the child like it was a secret. Children loved it when he did that.

“Uhhh….” The child stared at him, lightly touching it’s matted hair. “A-Alright…” It stuttered, sliding off the bed, hitting the ground with the quietest thump he’s ever heard. Techno stepped aside, letting the child pass him and started following him down, trying to think of conversation topics to get the child to relax. Philza wanted him to be nice so he’d be nice.

“Be nice to him, mate! And keep the door open a crack, I wanna be able to hear you!” Philza called out to him sternly, sounding halfway to scolding.

“I will, calm yourself!” He shouted back, huffing, frowning when Wilbur jumped. “Bathrooms to the left.” He grumbled, following Wilbur into the bathroom, relaxing when the humid, scented air hit his nose. He pulled the door almost closed, leaving it open just a crack like Philza requested. He hated the monitoring but he understood it. Didn’t want the voices suddenly coming back and telling him to drown the new kid. Couldn’t have a repeat of last time.

“What's that smell?” The child questioned, quaking as it peered into the tub, obviously confused.

“Cleanliness.” He responded, grabbing the soft towels and hung them up for later. “I put chamomile, lavender and clove in. They’re herbs, they’ll help you relax and smell nice. After that we’ll inspect you for cuts, bruises, general injuries so we can get them treated. While you’re in the bath, I’ll oil your hair and brush it out because currently..” He eyed the child's hair, cringing. “Well.”

“I’m well aware of my hair's state but I couldn’t exactly grab a hair brush while I was out on the streets.” The child retorted, looking a touch offended and defensive.

“Don’t get snippy, I lived out on the streets too. Now, strip down and get in the bath before it gets cold and stale. Keep your underwear on though, I’d rather not get to know you _that_ well within the first twenty minutes of knowing you.” He ordered, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up so he wouldn’t get them wet.

The child obeyed, leaving it’s clothes on the ground like some sort of heathen before getting in the tub, cringing at the temperature. “It’s hot!”

“It’s water, that’s what it does.”

“Fuck you, you made it too hot on purpose!”

“No, your pain threshold just sucks.” He grabbed the hair oil and sat behind the child, examining the mess in front of him. He set the jar in the bath, letting it float along and get warm while he started gently pulling the child's hair into sections.

“... Sorry for being mean, I didn’t know you were off the streets too…” They whispered after a long moment of silence, wincing when Techno pulled apart a clump.

“Well, I was lying.”

“What?!”  
“Yeah, I’m actually from the forest. Townspeople didn’t like me on their streets, it was too unsafe for me.” He told the child, grabbing hair ribbons from the counter and started tying up the different sections, noting the bruising on its scalp.

“Oh… Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He reassured the child, grabbing the floating jar out of the bath. He opened it up and scooped some of the warm oil into his hand, spreading it along the child's scalp, massaging it into one section. He set the jar aside and used both hands to gently massage the oil through the child’s hair, plucking apart tangles and mats, flicking aside sticks and clumps of mud. No blood or scabs so far, that’s good. A few clogged pores but that wasn’t unusual. 

“Are you Philza’s son?” The child asked quietly, poking the herbs that floated around them.

“No.” He answered bluntly, grabbing the wooden comb on the counter. “This is going to be the painful part.” He warned before he started combing, starting at the bottom.

“Ow!” The child complained when he yanked out a tangle, gripping the edges of the tub.

“This pain is temporary.” He reassured them, continuing to comb, occasionally dipping the comb into the oil. It was kinda methodical, taking care of someone else's hair but the child's grumbles and complaints quickly ruined it. After a long while, he was halfway done and admiring the curly hair that appeared from the mess.

“How much longer?”

Techno sighed. “Do you want to go to bed with mats in your hair? No? Then as long as it takes.” He grumbled, massaging oil through the child’s scalp. “You complain a lot for a needy child.”

“I’m not needy!”

“Are you in need?”

The child frowned, tilting his head back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Techno forced their head back to its original position. “In need, you need something, typically money or a home. The impoverished, the poor. They’re needy, in need.”

“Oh. Then yeah.”

“Then you’re needy.”

“Sounds bad when you say it like that…” The child grumbled.

Techno rolled his eyes, noting the unused bar of soap. “Aren’t you supposed to be washing yourself? Or will I need to do that for you too?” He questioned condescendingly.

“I thought I was washing myself? I’ve got weird smelly water, what else is there?” The child asked, clearly confused. To be fair, Techno wasn’t exactly aware of soap the first few days he was living there so it shouldn’t be a huge shock this child didn’t know what soap was either.

“Soap.” He reached over the child, grabbing the bar before getting up, going to the closet to grab a washcloth. “It gets you cleaner, makes you smell better and it helps you feel better.”

“Cleaner? I already have water, how much cleaner do I have to be?” The child complained, taking the items offered to him. “How do I use it?”

“Wrap it in the cloth, dip it in the water and start scrubbing. It’ll get rid of all the grime you can’t see and you’ll feel better after using it. Here,” He took the now wet bar of cloth covered soap and Wilburs arm, rubbing the bar on its arm, stopping when suds started appearing. “See? Much better. Being clean is important, it makes people view you as someone who’s rich.” He informed the child, sitting back behind him. “But that soap is only for your body, we’ll use a different one for your hair.”

“How many soaps are there?!” The child complained but got to work on scrubbing himself down, getting rid of the layer of grime covering them.

“There’s dish soap, hand soap, shampoo-”

“Shampoo?”

“Soap for your hair, which is what we’ll use when I’m done detangling then we’ll oil it again.” He explained, yanking out a big knot which earned him a shout and a curse from the child.

Techno’s arms were sore and he was soaked but the child was clean, it’s curly hair shiny and healthy looking. The rest of the child…

“You look like a skeleton.” He pointed out, watching the child's bones move under their skin as they got dressed in clean clothes. It was pale and bruised around it’s knees, elbows and shoulder. It must have gotten pushed down a lot, fresh bandaids decorating their body.

“You look like a pig!” The child rebutted, yelping when Techno snorted at them. Haha, loser.

He gathered up the child’s old clothes, noticing their nervous look. “You’ll get your clothes back, I just need to wash them.”

“You have to wash clothes?”

He stared at the child, grimacing. “Why did Philza choose such a grubby gremlin…” He questioned rhetorically, shaking his head as he dumped the clothes in the laundry bin, leaving the humid bathroom. “Your child is clean!” He called out, heading to the kitchen to get said child some water and maybe a snack. They needed to get some meat on their bones if they wanted it to be useful.

“Thanks mate- You are soaking wet.” Philza noted, sitting at the dining room table with a cup of tea in his hands. 

“Your child’s hair was a much more difficult challenge than I suspected.” He informed him.

“You can call him Wilbur, mate.”

“Is he not your child?”

“Techno.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of their colorful cups from the cabinet. Kids went apeshift for that shit.

“Hey Philza.” Wilbur greeted as he walked into the dining room, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh, hello there! I can finally get a good look at you without all that gunk in the way! Goodness, look at your hair! Techno, you did a fantastic job.” Philza praised, patting his child’s head. “How was the bath, kiddo?”

“Weird. Didn’t know there were so many soaps or what soap was.” Wilbur sat next to him, his feet barely touching the ground.

Techno tuned them out, cutting an apple into squares and setting it out on a plate. What did children like? Apples… Maybe he would like some orange slices? Milk? Chicken? Potions? God, children were difficult.. He settled on some orange slices and the apple cubes, popping an orange slice in his mouth before he brought the plate and cup out to the dining room, setting it down in front of the kid. “Eat.” He commanded, face heating up when Philza gave him that weird ‘aawwww’ noise. “What?”

“Nothin’, mate!”

“He weighs less than a chicken, he needs food if he wants to survive till winter.”

“I’m not gonna survive till winter?!” The child squeaked, looking panicked.

“Wilbur, he’s just playing-” “No I’m not. You will di-” “You’re going to be just fine.” Philza reassured the child, patting his back. “Go ahead and eat, we have plenty of food to go around.”

Techno watched as the child hesitantly started eating before gorging himself, stuffing the fruit into his mouth. He decided to leave and get started on laundry before the child needed a bath again, deciding Philza could handle it from there.

Techno sat in his soft bed, glaring at the words in front of him. He’s gotten a lot better at reading, he knew every word he needed to know at this point but story books still confused him greatly. He was convinced Philza only liked trashy books but he still tried to make an effort to understand it, not wanting to be left out of the loop. According to the story, Snow White was kinda similar to him. Worked and did household chores in exchange for housing and food but other than that it was difficult to relate to her. Why didn’t she just kill the Queen? Would’ve been easy.

He snapped out of his word glaring haze when Wilburs door creaked open and let his ears flick forward, straining to hear exactly what he was doing. His light footsteps got closer and closer until he was peering through his doorway, a scared look on his face. 

“Techno!” Wilbur whisper shouted despite already having his attention and started taking long, slow steps towards him, wool socks muffling him completely. “Are we allowed to have more dinner?” Wilbur whispered once he got close enough, clearly nervous.

He stared at the child for a good few minutes before responding. “If we aren’t then I’m in a lot of trouble.” He glanced at the plate of half finished food on his desk.

“... Are you gonna finish that?”

“Go right ahead.” He waved Wilbur off before returning to his book, trying to find where he left off.

Wilbur grabbed the plate and started chowing down, basically inhaling the food, clearly famished. “Whatcha readin’?” He asked, sitting next to him.

“Snow White and The Seven Dwarves. Philza said it would do me some good, whatever that means.”

“Why?”

Techno hesitated but there was no point in keeping secrets, Wilbur was clearly going to be staying for a while. “I’m not good at reading story books or understanding social things. I’ve gotten a lot better but I’m still struggling with some things.”

Wilbur slowly nodded, getting a sympathetic look, sitting silently for a while before piping up again. “What were you like when Philza first took you in…?”

He stared down at the book, words staring back at him. “Violent. Stupid. I couldn’t read or write, I could only fight and get money. Barely knew English, only knew things merchants said to me but I knew enough to get by.”

Wilbur watched him in silence, chewing slowly. He looked stupid. “Violent…?”

He nodded, closing his book and setting it aside. “I was an angry person. Stole from the few friends I had, didn’t view living things as.. Things. Just stepping stones, things to exploit and gain things from. Philza helped me through that but it’s hard to let go what you were raised with. He taught me how to control myself and channel my physical strength into things other than fighting.”

Wilbur nodded, fascinated by his story. “How long have you known Philza?”

“Years. When I first got here, I thought about… Stealing his valuables and ditching town.” He decided not to mention his plan to murder Phil and take over his house. “Now, I would hunt down anyone who dared to threaten him. Philza is a good guy, he’ll take care of you.”

Wilbur visibly relaxed, an unspoken bond forming between them. Two kids raised on the streets needed to stick together. “So… Philza’s nice?”

“Super nice. It’ll freak you out for the first few months but you get used to it. You can actually do stuff, it’s crazy.” He explained, taking the empty plate from Wilbur and setting it back down on his desk.

“So.. We have complete freedom?”

“Not really but close. Your deal with him is going to be a lot different from mine but my deal with him is that I get to stay here as long as I do chores, make food, and protect the house. No stealing, no getting into fights, no hurting other people for no reason.” He recited the rules.

“Wow.. That must be really difficult for you.”

Techno shrugged. “He’s lenient with the rules. I can get into fights and such or steal or skip a few days of chores without worrying about having a bed to sleep in the next day but then I have to deal with the disappointed look Philza gives me. I thought no one could guilt me into doing anything but that man…” He scowled. “Worms his way into your heart and just pulls on the strings like he’s a puppet master.”

Wilbur grinned, chuckling quietly. Apparently his misery was amusing. “Well, anything is better than my last house. I had an abandoned dumpster all by myself.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “I had some cardboard and a few crates. I see the homeless child housing has improved greatly.”

Wilbur laughed at that, covering his mouth. “You’re kinda funny!”

“Thank you.” Awkward silence started creeping in, Wilbur just sitting there, an amused expression on his face like he was completely immune to awkward silences. 

“I think we’re gonna be like brothers, Technoblade.”

“I doubt it.” He grabbed a tissue from his nightstand and leaned over, cleaning the crumbs off Wilburs face, patting his back when he was done. “Now go wash your mouth out and go to bed before Philza yells at us for staying up.” He ordered, watching the scrawny child leave. “And Wilbur,” He called out. “If you see anything out your window or on the roof, come get me. I’ll take care of it.”

Wilbur grinned at him. “Will do, buddy.” He left, his soft footsteps going down the hallway and into his room before finally disappearing once the door shut. Techno had great hearing but he could hear through multiple walls and a door………

That brat left his door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy! thank you for reading this! please check out my tumblr for updates about myself, updates on my fic, answers to questions, etc! or telling me what to write next lol

**Author's Note:**

> im not that good at writing fighting scenes but here y'all go  
> my tumblr is valerian-valentine-2 if you wanna chat or ask more questions or get more updates on what im writing


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